waiting for Sugar-Pie

When I become of age I will come and live with you.

Sugar-Pie visits me almost every day. She's very pretty. She comes after school and I often help her with her homework. I'm at least twice her age. Why is she interested in me?

One afternoon about two years ago, I was sitting at home as usual typing something into my laptop, when I noticed that I was not alone. Sitting in my room and watching me was a cute little schoolgirl. I said rather formally “Good Afternoon!” and she said “Hello!”

She said that she had been watching me for days and that I should carry on working, she wanted to watch me further. She even said “Please!” A polite gentleman always does what a lady tells him to do and I did.

She watched me every afternoon for a week before telling me that I was “the right one” for her. I asked her what her name was and she said “You can call me what you like, hopefully something nice.” I suggested Sugar-Pie or Honey-Bunch or Jail-Bait. She liked Sugar-Pie and calls me Simon.

She told me a few things about herself, she lived alone with her mother not too far away. Her mother was worried that I was not eating properly and Sugar-Pie brought a pie for me.

I gradually found out what she mean by “the right one”. What a surprise! She said that she found all the boys of her own age stupid, thin, weak, brainless; she used many negative words. Speaking as an ex-boy myself I suppose I had to agree with her.

Anyway she said, she decided to look around for a boy a bit older, and after several weeks if not months she discovered me. “Yes, but I'm so much older than you.”

“So what!” she said. I said that being older I had totally different interests than she had. “Oh, no!” she said, and told me all about myself and what my interests were and how my interests were also hers. Where did she find this all out? She wouldn't tell me.

Beef and carrot pie. I said “When you are older, you will find someone your own age and forget about me.” She said “No! I have decided and that is that. When I become of age I will come and live with you and make you very happy.” “However” she said, “until I'm old enough you are not allowed to touch me or find out where I live or anything about me. Do you understand?” I said yes.

Cherry pie. I am allowed to touch her once a year on her birthday. On February 14th I can kiss her lightly on the forehead and give her bunch of flowers. I don't believe that's her birthday though.

Sugar-Pie said one day that I did not want a virgin so she must practise first. I did not understand this. She said that she was going to try something with one of the boys in her school and make herself ready for me. I said “Be careful! Take your time over it for your own sake. You don't have to...” I was talking to myself, she had already left.

She visited me every day as usual and only some weeks later did she say “Oh, I couldn't do it. Those boys are so dumb and you are so good. You'll have to make do with a beginner.” I told her that it is hard work being a teenager. She looked at me.

Apple pie. “Do I get this right? As soon as you are old enough, I don't know exactly how old you are, you are coming here to live with me and share my bed with me?” “Yes!”

“Listen to me! You'll find a boy of your own age, maybe a bit older, maybe you'll have to try several boys, you'll marry him and have children and live happily ever after. You do want children, don't you? It is very important to talk about having or not having children when you start a serious relationship.”

“Yes, I want two children. Yes, I think you are right, you must talk about children before starting with someone. And I'm glad that we are talking about it. When we are together we are going to have two children, hopefully a girl and a boy. Won't that be good?”

Steak and kidney pie. I said that she could study something after school, go to college, start a career, see the world, before having children.

“No,” she said, “I've had enough of school. I can add up straight, I know a little history and such things, I can speak and write three languages, I don't need any more education. I've got a life to live and I know what I want and I'm going to do it with you and I am not going to waste time learning useless things.”

“Aha!” I said, “You have told me that you have learnt so many things at school but not how to cook.” This was really a silly idea of mine. “Yes!” she said “That's true, but it is no problem. My mother cooks and she will come with me and cook for the three of us.”

“Oh!” I said, getting sillier and sillier, “I only have one bed. Will your mother be sleeping with us?” “Oh, yes! She is looking forward to cooking for you and sleeping with us.” Rhubarb pie.

Gulp! “Suppose I roll over in the middle of the night to her side of the bed and take a fancy to her?” “Oh, I haven't thought of that. I must discuss it with my mother.”

She didn't come the next day nor the day after. After three days I thought to myself, “Oh, good, she's gone.” After four, “I just imagined it all – there is no Sugar-Pie.” After a week I started to cry. After two weeks I was still crying, hopefully I would soon get over it.

After three weeks she was back. Chicken and leek pie. She said that she had discussed a lot with her mother. At first they both thought that my fancies were OK, but then they changed their minds and decided that I must not touch her mother. However her mother was still coming to live with us and share our bed.

She noticed that I had been crying, I couldn't lie to her, she discovered the state that I was in. She realised how upset I was, “Simon, you are a real and wonderful person. I shouldn't have done that to you. I did not know. I'm very sorry. I must look after you better.”

One day, the door bell rang, a man and a woman to visit me. The man said that he was a police inspector and showed me a picture of Sugar-Pie, “Do you know this person?”

“Yes!” Alarm bells. “Who is it? What's her name?” “No, I don't know her name, but she visits me for half an hour most days.”

“May we come in and ask you a few questions?” They asked me many questions, it got difficult. He even took my half eaten pork pie after I casually mentioned that Sugar-Pie's mother had made it for me. “That's going into an evidence bag.” he said.

Suddenly Sugar-Pie came into the room. Daggers. The policeman shouted into his mobile telephone; I think someone was supposed to stop Sugar-Pie before my house and question her separately.

“Who are these people?” she demanded. As a polite adult I should have introduced them by name, but Sugar-Pie had given me the courage to say what I really thought “This is a policeman who wants to lock me up for having sex with an under age girl, that's you. And the person from Social Services wants to put you in a home for wayward girls.”

Sugar-Pie spat out “My home is with my mother. Please leave now!” The policeman was very annoyed, “You should not speak to us like that. This is not your house. It belongs to Mr......” “Just go!” I said. They went, though without the pie, Sugar-Pie snatched it from the policeman, and we never saw them again.

These two people probably don't exist, perhaps Sugar-Pie also. But what am I doing here? Waiting for Sugar-Pie.